ON HOLD The perks of being a Hafizah

Yahya!!!

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Amatullah POV.

I couldn't believe my eyes and my ears....ya Allah! Nothing digested and I stayed in a complete state of shock.

Khalil? What he was speaking to Yahya about was unbelievable. Sister? Does he mean Zahra? My mind was discombobulated and when my eyes lay down on the text that Khalil showed Yahya, it all started to fit into place. He was a man with no intentions. From the first sight I saw a well respected man , but minutes later I saw a beast expose within him. My hatred built for him, and what had happened between Yahya and Khalil in that spur of a moment left me in shock.

The door opened and in came the imam. From that moment everything went as a blur. Voices were raised, the atmosphere was full of curruption. I zoned out, shocked and scared as to what was happening stood there staring at the place where Yahya was.

"Amatullah! Amatulla! Ukhti!" Shouted a voice.

In a second I broke out of my moment and turned to the bleeding Yahya who was attempting to hide it with his white thowb that now was subtly stained with blood.

As I looked at him, my eyes started to well up. The sight of a brother in Islam being dripping in blood was not a nice sight to see.

Muslims, brothers in Islam fighting, it caused me to burst out in tears. What was this disunity? What was this curroption? Haven't they split us up enough already that you have to split us up even more? I had no idea to the meaning and purpose as such about what was happening with Khaleel and Yahya but I knew it wasn't a good one.

"Amatullah! Ya Allah! Do not cry! We need to be going" he said attempting to look at the ground but out of grief he couldn't.

He gestured to me the door and we both exited. The room was still howling with disunity as voices got louder and louder but by the time we exited, the silence took the place.

"I'll meet you downstairs in sha Allah" he said.

I made my way down the stairs and placed my shoes on still with the tears welling up in me.

Before I walked out, I grabbed some tissue from the wudhu area and made my way to Yahya who had his face covered with his hand. I handed him the tissue and he replied with a jizakallahukhayrun.

I walked ahead and Yahya walked behind and so I didn't feel much of his presence.

The sun had risen, the heat coating the underlying frost from the morning and making it seem so beautiful.

Don't judge a book by it's cover.....

Through the journey, little attention did I pay to my surroundings; the morning silence, the tweeting birds, the scampering squirrels. It happened before me yet little did I show any attention. All I wanted to do was go home and sleep, and sleep and sleep. Let the event dissolve and simmer away out of my mind and to wake up remembering nothing. Who was I to judge?

As I reached my house, I turned around to see Yahya not in sight. With no one around, I took the niqab off which did not belong with me and went running up the hill in search for him.

He must have been around the corner right?

I walked a little faster as my scarf flapped hysterically.

By that time, I started run faster and came to a sudden stop at the steps of the edge of the pavement.

Being already in the mix of emotions, the last thing I wanted...